


Shackled to the Past

by J_33



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Peggy Carter - Freeform, Red Room, references to Agent Carter, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_33/pseuds/J_33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Black Widow Program; a way for the Russians to turn young girls into young killers, and so much more (and so much worse).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shackled to the Past

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from the Agent Carter episode that just aired. (IF YOU'RE NOT WATCHING THAT SHOW YOU NEED TO REAVALUATE YOUR LIFE, STOP, WATCH THE SHOW AND THEN BASK IN THE UTTER JOY THAT SEEING PEGGY CARTER BEAT INCOMPETANT MEN WITH EVERYDAY TOOLS!) 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy, and of course I had to add some romanogers to fill the gaping hole in my heart;)

The Black Widow Program; a way for the Russians to turn young girls into young killers, and so much more (and so much worse).

 

Natasha remembered the marks that the handcuffs made on her wrists after all those years. Shackling her youth and innocence to the floor. They were invisible now, but occasionally she would wake up in the middle of the night, surprised to not be chained to her bed, like a prisoner.

 

(She sometimes still felt like she was a prisoner in her own mind though).

 

There was this one mission where she and Steve had to go undercover at a daycare to gain Intel on a parent who happened to be a criminal as well. The job wasn’t too difficult, and Natasha didn’t totally despise children. (If anything she envied them). But it was the stupid nursery rhymes, and little kid cartoons, that gave her a pounding headache, and a knot in her stomach, one that made her want to pull her red hair out.

 

Some song was playing in the background. It was either Old McDonald, or Ring around the Rosie; all she knew was that it was loud, and worse than nails scratching on a chalkboard, and little kids were running around, and screaming, like little kids do. There was an old DVD playing on the screen that kept pausing, and the screen would become distorted, and Natasha swore she saw the words ‘Install Fear,’ flash randomly, against the image of the Care Bears.

 

Suddenly the room was spinning, and Natasha felt unbearably cold, like it was winter, except it was the middle of spring, and they were in Arizona. Her wrists begun to burn, and it felt like yesterday, when she was forced to sleep handcuffed to the bed post, in fear of her, and countless other children, just like her, running away from the cage they had them all trapped in. (Like mice in a science lab worked by hungry cats).

 

She could feel Steve’s eyes on her, but all she could hear was the children screaming, and the “EIEIO’s.” All she could feel was the burning cold fire, and the pain in her head, and the aching hunger in her stomach, topped with the urge to run, to hide, or was it to kill?

 

(We are nothing in this world).

 

“Nat, are you alright?” she heard Steve ask, as he stood right in front of her, snapping her out of her thought, though not completely.

 

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” she said while avoiding his piercing blue eyes.

 

“You look pale. Why don’t you go to the bathroom, take a break; I got this,” he said, referencing to the energetic kids around him.

 

“Okay, thanks,” she said, quickly, and walked hurriedly out of the room, into the bathroom, where she locked the door behind her.

 

 _Just breath_ , she said to herself, as she looked into the mirror, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.

 

_(You are a ~~spy~~ tool)._

 

 _You’re gonna be okay_ , she said in a shaky voice, just before splashing cold water on her face.

 

***

 

Later that day, Steve and Natasha went back to the hotel they were staying at for the mission. Steve said something about their target making transactions to a bank account outside the U.S. but she wasn’t paying attention.

 

The night came to fast, but unfortunately that didn’t guarantee sleep, because at 2am, Natasha woke up in a cold sweat, with a scream in the back of her throat, and her wrists burning yet again. She looked to the right of herself, and saw Steve in his bed. He looked asleep, but she knew better.

 

“Steve,” she whispered into the dark.

 

“What?” he said back in the same tone.

 

“It’s cold in here; do you mind if I--,” she started.

 

“Not at all,” he said, and she could see him move over in his already small bed, to make room for her.

 

She quickly crawled in right next to him. Her side was touching his slightly, as she closed her eyes, and tried to erase the images from her past that haunted her dreams (and her present).

 

“Steve?” she whispered again.

 

“Hmmm?” he replied.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Don’t mention it. Sometimes the world is too much, even for people like us to be alone,” he said in a hushed tone.

 

Moments of silence passed before he said, “Natasha?”

 

“Yeah?” she said, stifling a yawn.

 

“Remind me to never have you babysit my kids,” he said, and Natasha elbowed him in the side.

 

“Goodnight Steve,” she said with a hint of humor.

 

“Night,” he said back.

 

In the morning, Natasha awoke with her legs tangled between Steve’s, and her wrists feeling free. (And frankly, she didn’t mind the small size of the bed, at least for today), because waking up isn’t so hard when you’re not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! It was supposed to be a lot shorter, and posted on my tumblr (@egg-of-ultron where I always accept prompt requests) but I got a little carried away.
> 
> Feel free to leave your comments below:D


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